One is the Loneliest Number
by JZ Belexes
Summary: Optimus spun around, almost reaching for his axe before he registered the voice: her voice. It was too late to stop instinct though, and by the time he was facing her he had taken up a battle-ready stance. She hissed, crouching down and baring her claws.


Optimus Prime wasn't sure why he had come here. The journey to "Dinobot Island" and Black's laboratory had an almost dream-like quality in his memory banks and he had only gotten here five cycles ago. He'd managed to avoid the Dinobots during his journey, thankfully - he didn't want to be bothered. But now he was here and wondering just what force had compelled him to make this expedition.

He stood motionless as he recalled the last time he had been here, some weeks ago. Blackarachnia had extorted him to fetch a component for Prometheus Black so he could experiment on her and the scientist had, of course, betrayed her. Optimus had acted without thinking then too, rescuing her more out of reflex than conscious decision. Of course if he had paused to think about it, he would have done the same thing anyway. He still cared about her.

After Elita-1's apparent death, he had always fantasized about what life would have been like if she'd lived. Commanding a ragtag crew repairing space-bridges to nowhere had not been the life he wanted, and so he had created an elaborate fantasy world for himself. He knew it wasn't healthy, but he couldn't help himself. In his imagination, Elita had chosen him over Sentinel, they rose to the rank of Prime together and after a successful but peaceful career, they retired to settle some colony and live out the rest of their lives together. Happily.

He couldn't revisit those fantasies now, not after what she had become. He didn't despise her techno-organic body; what disturbed him more was the Decepticon sigil she now wore on her neck. Had he really done that? Had he driven her to the side of the enemy?

A voice imposed upon his thoughts from behind: "What do _you_ want?"

Optimus spun around, almost reaching for his axe before he registered the voice: her voice. It was too late to stop instinct though, and by the time he was facing her he had taken up a battle-ready stance. She hissed, crouching down and baring her claws.

"El- Blackarachnia!" he exclaimed, dropping his defenses. "I… don't want anything. I just came to look for you."

All four eyes narrowed. She didn't budge. "Why?"

"Just… to talk," he said, sitting down on the berth that he had rescued her from. "Can't we have just… one civil discussion?" At least one.

"I don't want to hear your excuses again," she answered harshly.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "No more excuses. I made… a horrible mistake. I should have gone looking for you. And whether you believe it or not, I truly am sorry, from the deepest quark of my spark."

"Is that supposed to make _you_ feel better, or _me_?" Her words dripped with sardonic venom, but at least she slackened her stance, standing up and placing a servo on a hip.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I didn't think it would change things, but I had hoped. _Love_… hopes."

For the first time, she seemed completely taken by surprise. "What did you just say?"

Optimus slowly stood up and took a careful step towards her. "I said I love you. No matter what you look like or what you call yourself. Why do you think I keep falling for your tricks every time?"

"Don't come any closer!" she shouted. He obeyed.

Nevertheless he pressed on verbally. "I can't condone some of the decisions you made Blackarachnia, but I understand that you did what you had to to survive. I… don't expect anything to change between us overnight, but I just want you to know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to someday win your trust back. If… you _ever _need help, you can come to me."

"And what makes you think I'll need your help?" She turned her back to him, staring into the sky outside. A symbolic gesture; he knew she was still keeping an eye on him. She mistrusted him down to her very instincts. "I don't need you. I'll never depend on anyone ever again."

"Everyone needs somebody," he insisted gently.

"Just go," Blackarachnia said, her voice suddenly sounding ragged. "I _have _to do this myself. I don't have room in my life for someone else."

"But… maybe someday?"

She scoffed. "Sure why not. If your Autobot code doesn't force you to put me in the stockades."

He stood there, uncertain. Was she giving him hope because some part of her still felt for him too… or because she knew that false hope would be crueler than no hope at all? "I just want to help you," he repeated. "Not out of some desire to make amends. Not to try to win you back. But because I care about you and just want you to be happy."

"If you really mean that, you'll _leave me alone_," she insisted, spinning around and motioning towards the door. "I don't need you."

Finally he conceded, raising his arms in surrender and making for the exit. Before he left though, he had to get the final word. "Maybe you don't," Optimus said as he transformed. "But that doesn't mean you _have_ to take the harder path."


End file.
